Watching
by zombified419
Summary: Tony Stark really had no business *watching*, but he really had no business doing a lot of what he did.


_**HUD: Surprise! :D**_

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Tony Stark really had no business _watching,_ but he really had no business doing a lot of what he did.

Resident I'm-just-stuck-here-because-of-my-big-doofus-brother demigod Loki Laufeyson was sitting at the kitchen island/bar in men's yoga pants and a green long sleeved shirt. He wasn't really 'stuck there', per say - it was more along the lines of not _choosing_ to leave, and it wasn't really his 'big doofus brother', either. (Thor had actually agreed to keep an eye on his baby bro in exchange for him not being banished to wherever the fuck, so Poor Thing Loki). Either way, if one didn't mention either of those things then, well, Loki seemed to have just wormed his way in quite well.

So well, in fact, that Tony had more than enough chances to watch the lithe god slink around like a damn cat for months, barely touching things here or adjusting things there to make room for his own artifacts, and now Tony found himself with a roommate on the other side of his penthouse that he _still_ had trouble explaining to Pepper. (It's not like he was under mind control, because that doesn't work on him, duh.) Stranger still, there were no renovations made, but a random door popped up betwixt the stairs to Tony's own room and a coat closet. Apparently, it's connected to a room.

Fucking magic.

Anyway, so Tony knew he had no business watching and decided to shake it up a bit. He finished walking down the stairs to the base floor and called a greeting.

"Hey-o, Cheerio!" He chirped, bounding around the island Loki was still sitting at. The god barely hummed an acknowledgement as he absently flipped a page of the magazine he was staring at. Tony's grin faltered in the wake of his partially ignored greeting before shrugging and opening his fridge. Loki was like that, sometimes. When he first 'moved in', Tony could count all the hairs on his head and in his goatee better than gauging Loki's moods, but they grew closer as people do when they share space, and now his flippancy was almost odd.

Tony hummed a slight tune to himself as he opened a carton of apple juice and poured a hefty glass. No OJ after teeth brushing, thank you. He pushed the carton back vaguely onto the same shelf and pivoted to lean against the counter. It was a casual but terrible move - now he had a clear view of Loki lapping just as absently on a vanilla ice cream cone as he flipped the magazine. Tony hid a thick swallow with a gulp of juice and breathed slowly in and out of his nose. He'd been struggling with his growing attachment to Loki lately, and little things like anything slightly phallic or sensual near the god's mouth was enough to send Tony scurrying to the lab.

Luckily, before he could make any kind of awkward gawk or comment, JARVIS was announcing the arrival of a guest. "Agent Barton here to see you, Sir."

"Thanks, J," Tony answered. He looked at the sound of the elevator doors closing and Clint striding over. Tony snorted and hid his grin.

Clint really wasn't much of a fan of the winters in New York. Sure the Tower was warm and regulated and not at all chilly, but he still strolled around in sweatpants over long johns and two sweaters with a blanket trailing behind like a cape. Today was no exception.

"Hey Stark - " The archer stopped short when he saw Loki at the counter, licking away like a fucking _pro_ and not giving two shits about who saw (which, knowing Loki, may have very well been the case). The two weren't on the best of terms still, but Loki tolerated Clint and the feeling was mutual. Occasionally they worked well on the battlefield, but that was few and far in between and Tony didn't blame either of them. He'd feel weird around someone after living in their head, too.

Clint blinked slowly then turned back. "Dude, I'm freezing. JARV won't crank up the heat anymore."

"Short of lighting a fire, Agent Barton, your room is as warm as possible for the Tower's heating," the cool voice of JARVIS answered. Clint rolled his eyes and looked at Tony again.

"Well, J knows what's up, and if he says it won't go any higher, then that's that," Tony shrugged. Clint scowled and drew his blanket just a little tighter.

"Not good enough - still freezing," Clint grumbled. Tony grinned.

"Go get a space heater," Tony offered.

"That means I have to _leave,"_ Clint mumbled. "It's hella colder out there than in _here."_

"See if Cap'll let you borrow his space heater."

"That's so _little,_ though. I need, like, a sun-sized heater." Clint's grumbling made Tony snort and shake his head. He started for a sip of juice when a lazy drawl entered the conversation.

"Perhaps you should fly south for the winter, Barton," Loki commented, his voice slightly raspy from his chilly treat. "Is that not what your kind does, after all?"

While Tony fought to not bust a gut laughing, a pin could be heard dropping in the silence. Clint snapped his head towards the once again silent god, still flipping and licking. Tony rolled his bottom lip between his teeth to keep away his grin.

"You're fucking kidding, right?" Clint demanded, striding over to stare at Loki. "You're sitting there, eating _fucking ice cream,_ and my core body temp is, like, negative fifty. How are you eating that shit?"

"Because I want to," was the simple answer. Tony's grin started to come through full force. _No, go away, you!_

Clint blinked owlishly at Loki then turned to Tony. "Stop grinning, idiot."

"He called you a _bird,"_ Tony wheezed, finally losing the battle. "It was so perfect." He could see the faintest of grins ghosting Loki's lips.

"Yeah, well, if I'm a fucking bird, then he's a damn _Frost Giant_ eating that shit!"

Loki finally looked up to share a glance with Tony, who paused only long enough to fight _another_ bout of laughter, before turning to Clint.

"How astute of you," Loki said dryly. He swirled the cone around his tongue elegantly and smacked his lips before offering a devastating grin. "For I am a Frost Giant, Birdie."

Tony's howls followed Clint all the way to the elevator and down at least two floors. The genius grabbed the counter to support himself and set aside his juice as he leaned forward a little too much. He literally understood the saying 'doubled over from laughter' because damn, that was too funny. Loki chuckled as he watched Tony regain his composure and dab his eyes.

"Oh no," Tony giggled. "Oh no, that was too much. How _well_ he set that up, like he walked _right into it,_ and your delivery was so amazing I could just kiss you right now." Tony shook his head while his grin lingered and reached for his glass.

"Do it."

Tony froze and quirked an eyebrow at his 'roommate'. Loki still held his nearly finished cone, but his magazine was set aside beneath an arm draped over the side of the bar that looked too enticing to be accidental. Tony swallowed as he watched a too pink tongue dart out for another lick.

"Why?" He heard himself ask in a voice that was definitely his but far too raspy. He knew all the emotion he poured into that one word was too much too soon, far too much longing and other gross things he didn't want to admit feeling just yet.

"Because I want to," was, again, the simple answer, and it took all Tony had to not toss the remainder of that damn cone into the sink and shove Loki across to the couch.

Instead, Tony Stark swallowed thickly one last time and crossed to the island. He found out _exactly_ why Loki had wanted that cone (because it was damn delicious) and that it tasted far better from Loki's lips and tongue than from the package. He also discovered that watching was now _entirely_ his business, especially wherever Loki Laufeyson was concerned.

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 ** _A/N: So this came to me when my boyfriend's little brother called me a Frost Giant for eating an ice cream cone in 45 degree weather. :D Hope you enjoyed this little ditty!_**


End file.
